Extra grace required...

While some may call these weeds,
some of us appreciate their presence.

Extra grace required... 

I heard this statement on Sunday at the spiritual center I often attend. The talk that day was a Father's Day tribute to all the men who love, nurture, and teach. 

My grandfather was my father figure; he left the mortal plane when I was 9. But love, nurture, and teach he did during those scant short years, and his lessons and love endured. I am forever grateful. That said... In the coming years, starting at about age 12, I needed a whole lot of extra grace.  

Thankless work 

Parenting is a lot of work at the best of times, and while there are countless books available about how to do it better, it's one of those things we only learn through experience. While I don't have children of my own, I dipped my toes into that icy water during a stint as a step-mom. To say I needed extra grace, as did my step-daughter, would have been an understatement at the time. 

We will all need extra grace at one time or another. And likely many times over; as humans, we're all just making it up as we go.  

Our deepest desire is to be loved

Extra grace came up while talking about love: Those who are easy to love need our love the least because they love themselves; those who are hard to love need our love the most. And they need extra grace, because they don't love themselves.  

Referencing the biblical verse from the book of Matthew, love your enemies, we were asked from the podium if we could all think of someone who was hard to love (including those holding high political offices). Um, yeah... I can think of a few. While the center isn't Christian- nor Bible-based, the Good Book occasionally comes up as a source of wisdom and lessons, filled with great stories and parables from which we can all learn, even if we question their validity as truth.  

Tough love, love tough...

We also heard a few examples. One in particular stood out: Blues musician Daryl Davis, a black man, armed himself with knowledge and then befriended Klansmen, which eventually led to at least 200 of them giving up their robes. Initially brought together through music, he took the time to listen, talk, and learn, and yes, extend grace.  

This reminded me of a story I read a while ago about Derek Black, a former white nationalist and son of Stormfront's founder, one of the most extreme hate groups in the country. Derek was being groomed by the Klan's grand wizard to be the next leader of the movement. But while attending college in Florida, Derek hooked up with a new set of friends who were gay, Jewish, and immigrants. Love, knowledge, and grace made him see the light and walk away from hate. You can read his words here in the Southern Poverty Law Center's Intelligence Report.  

While these are extreme examples, we all know people who need extra grace. With a little bit of grace, change is possible. And if the seemingly worst of the worst can be granted grace by those they've harmed, can't we all do that? 

And again, gratitude... 

I count my blessings every day for the grace I've been given over time: for losing my temper, doubting myself, doubting others, acting out, outright failing at life sometimes. I am as human as the rest of us, after all. And the only way we continue to grow and expand is to be, do, and say—for which there's no real blueprint. Mistakes are inevitable;  hence, grace. 

Love your enemies... bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you... 

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here.

The depths of winter, and gratitude

Now over a year since I've posted here, what a year it was. Knowing that the only constant is change doesn't make a lot of change an easy experience. Not that change is easy; even desired change has it's challenges, and undesired change can be downright frightening, or at least, uncomfortable.

The Northwest is now in the depths of winter, but thankfully, the temperatures here don't compare to those back east. I count my blessings. In fact, our recent cold front came with gorgeous sunny days, so it's hard to complain. We had snow at Christmas -- a first in many years. Life stands more still when it snows, and everything grows quiet.

The first day of winter is bittersweet, with dreary winter weather a promise for the months ahead, but the days also grow longer and the nights become shorter. We won't notice this at first; the days still feel short, and when the skies are gray, it feels darker still. Sometimes, the weather is a reflection of my mood. Or my mood is a reflection? It's hard to tell which came first, but I know my moods are lighter when the skies are lighter.

Letting go of gloom, or... 

...gloomsday gratitude? :)

Today was a mixed bag of rain and gray skies, with a few sun breaks. I graciously and gratefully worked from home, in my cozy basement office, looking out at the evergreen flora. No makeup, no bra, sweats and slippers. Now that's a picture, and one I wouldn't post.

And, grateful is where it's at. When the gloom sets in, gratitude is a way out. Being in service to others is another, and the two are intertwined. Helping someone can be a reminder of all I have to be grateful for. For the many gifts I and so many in my world are fortunate to have. When doing for others isn't an option, though, I try to stop what I'm doing and remember all my good.

Nightmare, a younger version

Some days, my good is as simple as my statement above -- working from home, in comfort. I have a job. I have a home. How lucky am I? Not everyone can say that. I'm warm. I'm dry. I have more clothes than I can wear, more food than I can reasonably eat at one time. I have hot water and hot beverages.

Yes, 2017 was a year of change. We lost the last of our three cats, my precious white Nightmare, to cancer at just over 18. Lucky for him, he didn't know he was sick until the last week or so of his little life. He was a big presence, with paws that won't easily be filled. Forrest and I then escaped the emptiness with a cross-country drive, filling the void with landscapes.

Grand Canyon, cross-country drive

We saw family and friends, and explored destinations from Death Valley to New Orleans to the Gulf Coast. Forrest lost one of his oldest friends to suicide. I got a job, and then another job, meeting and working with amazing people. And I continued freelancing and coaching. We sailed to islands, hiked, and enjoyed a lot of togetherness that we no longer take for granted. I spent an entire week with 12 family members I only loosely know--but love--on a cruise ship to and from Alaska. And that's just part of it.

Hubbard Glacier, Alaska

I count my blessings. Every day, I write those things I'm grateful for and send them off to my gratitude partner to be witnessed. Sometimes I'm grateful for the lessons in the journey, those things I'm not proud of, the things that hurt, or anger, or give me pause. Sometimes, it's the little things -- I got through my day with no harm done. Every day, I give thanks I'm alive, I'm healthy, I have a partner who loves me, a home, family, people who care. I have learned a lot about myself over the last couple years, with un- and under-employment, and ongoing challenges. Strife is a good teacher. Even my birthday, which every year I have higher hopes for, is my opportunity to dive deep into the depths, and understand myself better. New insights, new awareness, more self-compassion.

Yes, gratitude. I'm so grateful to be here. So grateful to be able to write here. So grateful for the journey, even in the depths of winter.